The Carbon advocate. [volume] (Lehighton, Pa.) 1872-1924, 1887-01-15
BTOadbTim's New York Letter.


men in the State. There were lawyers and
doctors. judges, Of the courts, musicians
and actors, politicians and clubmen, men
eminent in science and literature, and q
vast crowd of critics and reporters. The
man around whose'blcr bhey were congre-
gated was an Irishman named Edmond
O'Flahcrty,l but who, disownng the coun-
try which honored him by giving him birth,
chose the name of William Stuart, by
which name he was known for the last
thirty years in this metropolis. He came
to this countrY to escape the consequences
of an offence which prevented him from
ever visiting his native land again. He
was cast of by his relatives and former
friends and died In exile forsaken and al
most forgotten till the news of his death
suddenly startled the remembrance of the
town to what he had been In the past.
Romantic lives are not uncommon here.
In a walk down Broadway almost any after
noon, you can jOstle against mllionaires.
/ the sound Of fwhose names shake the linan-
cial centers of the world; bankrupts whose
| failures have made the whole land tremble;
ministers, literateurs, Gombltr5, thieves and
soiled doves. Yes, romantic lives are
plenty, and perhaps those who record them
for the daily press are not the least romantic
of them all. Edmond O'Flaherty, at his
death has been deiiled and execrated, and
as | write two press notices of his decease
lie on the table before ne. Both of them
would seem entitled to equal credit. "IIe
was good soul writes one), kind, gener-
Gus, and true. with brilliant talents and
varied accomplishments, which marked
him as ono of the last OF the generation of
gentlemen of the old school. He was alike
at home in the COMPANY of the ordinary
Bohemian and men of the noblest lineage
and most distinguished intellect He was
gentleman of brilliant conversational
powers, and as ranconteur he leaves few
equals behind him. These admirable quail
lties made him evera welcome guest at the
! principal clubs and tables of the great were
his loss will be deeply mourned by those
| who knew him best and loved him." The
other writes: "The death in poverty and
obscurity, and almost oblivion, of Edmond
O'Flaherty, better known as William Stuart
enables large amount of Bohemian gush
and displays an amazing amount Of journ.
alistic ignorance in the New York papers
of to-day. The man had ceased from pub
lie view for years, and while lie was on view
he was neither an honorable nor admirable
object; his was a Swiss pen, at tho service
Of any cause or theory when lie himself
might profit. He could write with power
and polish, but he lacked principle to bal
last his brilliantly rotten abilities; his char
acter was so repulsiYe, his literary talents
so predatory, and living habits 50 consci-
enceless, that his very abilities were the
servants ola vicousness that the press Is
well rid of, when his kind drop into the
forced inactivity of the grave" These are
| the two obituaries.
The mans end in obscurity and poverty
should be lesson to ali young men who
seek to enter on metropolitan life. Twen-
ty-five years ago he was one of the most
popular men in the city. He was then
/ proprietor of the Winter Garden, the fash
ionable theatre of New N,ork, and while
there lie introduced Matilda Heron and
Edwin Booth to the American public. His
reckless management and utter faithless-
ness of obligation brought the theatre to
utter ruin. and thereafter Mr.. O'Flaherty
lived by his wits, occasionally writing bril-
liant but utterly unreliable articles for
newspapers and magazines. He started
life with golden prospects, being allied 10
one OF the best families in Ireland. He re-
ceived first-class collegiate education,
and easily gaining admission into the most
distinguished society, married one of the
most beautiful and talented women in Great
Britain, and after two or three years of the
widest dissipation he was driven into exile
never to return to his native land. Instead
OF trying to reform he kept upa style of
living which astonished those who knew
him best, and gave luxurious dinrers to
bon vivants and disspated roues like him
self, which were paid for with worthless
notes and violated obligations. The prodi-
gal liver the once petted favorite of fortune
at last, deserted by the friends of his more
| prosperous days, and banished from the
clubs where he had once been the most
honored guest, found refuge in compile of
cheap rooms in one of the commonest quar-
ters Of the city, and there for the past few
years he eked out a miserable existence.
dependent on the bounty of the friends
which his reckless imprCyidence and diss-
patton had left him. Even in this wretched
estate he still attempted to keep up his
former style by keeping a valet at a time
he hardly knew where his breakfast or din
ner was coming from. The faithful SER
want stuck to him to the last with deyo-
tion truly touching which distinguishes the
Irish peasantry in their love of the ould
families. for he recognized even in his
squalid misery and rags the descendant of
the bould O'Fiaherty, who stood beside the
great Brien at Clontarf or sent death into
the ranks of the Sassanach at Vinegar
Hill, or dyed with Saxon blood the clear
waters of the Boyne. When mortal aid
could no longer reach him, the magnates of
the city gathered around his bier and gave
him Christian burial, and in due time a
monument will rise to mark the spot where
he reposes; but the young journalist who
seeks the metropolis to carve his way to
fame would do well to profit by this wasted
life-devoted mainly to unworthy ends, to
wild dissipation and personal qualification.
Notwithstanding his transcendent ability
and brilliant opportunities, he leayes moth
ing behind to mark his having been but the
Dead Sea fruit of ashes.
Yet the romance of this mans life is as
NOTHING TO that of a connie of won,o, ubo